Broken Honor
by pdljmpr6
Summary: He would not submit. He would die before he'd submit. And now, he wishes he had. Rononcentric Angst. Multichap tag for Broken Ties.
1. Lost Honor

**A/N: I think there is a lot of unvisited angst available for Ronon after that last episode, _Broken Ties_ and I am not completely confident they're going to address it in the next episode, so I'm going after it here. I love Ronon but I'm not sure how well I'll write him so feedback is appreciated.**

**A/N2: I suck at making up names for make-believe items, just FYI.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own the show, although if Ronon is for sale I'm totally there. Some dialogue from 'Reunion' and 'Broken Ties'.**

"_You're wraith worshippers? After what they did to Sateda?!"_

Ronon sat on his bed in the infirmary, his legs hanging on one side while he waited for Keller to complete his 'discharge' papers. He felt a little more comfortable now that he was back in his own clothes, but he would feel better once he was back in his own room. Away from prying eyes and pitying looks.

As it was he was staring at the ground avoiding the eyes of anyone who might look his way. His _kamtra_ sword sat next to him, patiently waiting to be returned to it's resting place beside his bed. Sheppard had shown an incredible amount of trust giving that back to him, when just hours before he'd been ready to destroy Atlantis and it's inhabitants _without mercy_.

The words echoed in his head.

_No retreat in the face of battle, no sympathy for the fallen, no mercy for our enemies. _

In an instant the infirmary faded away and he was back on the Wraith planet, kneeling at the feet of his master, repeating a mantra of Wraith philosophy with the conviction he'd once recited his _gythna_ prayers as a boy.

His stomach turned at the memory and his body shook with rage turned inward.

"_After what they did to Sateda?"_

Keller's voice saved him from himself, "Ronon, are you alright?"

He opened his eyes, not realizing he'd closed them, and looked at her. She stood in front of him, her eyes roaming his face with concern. He looked away.

"Fine."

She furrowed her brow and stepped forward, pressing her fingers to his neck before checking a few other vitals. "Your pulse is elevated and you feel a little warm. Maybe we should-"

"I'm fine." Ronon repeated, his voice just a little edgier, "Can I go?"

Jennifer's face darkened slightly, but, after giving him another quick once over, she nodded. "Yes, you can. But you're on light duty, you hear me? No sparring or off world activities for at least a week," she called to his back as he exited the infirmary.

Ronon didn't think either of those conditions would be a problem. He couldn't imagine Sheppard would be too eager to have him back on the team. Even if he was, because he'd been known to be overly optimistic at times, Woolsey certainly wouldn't be.

He looked down at his _kamtra_, his mind flashing back to the moment the Wraith had handed it to him. The way had taken it, swinging it swiftly through the air, ready to fight. To kill anyone the wraith looked at funny. Including – especially – anyone from Atlantis. He dropped the sword back to his side.

No, he wouldn't be sparring any time soon either. It didn't matter, that Sheppard trusted him, Sheppard trusted everyone until given a reason not to. And even then, he still might if the situation suited him. But Ronon wasn't that way, too many years spent lying and being lied to for no other reason than survival. It took a lot to earn his trust, and now the one person he'd always relied on, had shattered it. And how could he ever trust himself again?

Ronon made it to his room and opened it, but took a second before stepping inside. Almost two weeks had passed since he'd set foot inside it, and everything was exactly as he'd left it, save of a thin layer of dust on everything.

The clothes he'd left behind, some of his knifes and books. His painting. They all stared at him, mocked him from the same positions he'd last seen them in. All reminding him of everything he was and everything he wouldn't be again. They were Satedan things. Things he'd used to remember his people and himself. Things to be honored and venerated.

He twisted his face in disgust. He didn't deserve the honor their presence bestowed on him. He'd sat in this very room, on this very bed surrounded by these same things when he'd returned from the wraith planet the first time. When he'd fought Ara and Rakai to the death. A death without honor. A death he'd thought they deserved. A death he deserved.

Inhaling sharply, his body suddenly jumped to action, his eyes frantically searching the room for something to throw. Suddenly, fueled by power born of anger, he started gathering everything he could see and throwing, shoving, heaving them all into a corner.

"_You're wraith worshippers?" _

The candles Teyla gave him for his meditation. A wooden instrument, a _yawnee_, he'd never actually gotten around to learning how to play.

"_After what they did to Sateda?" _

The box he put his _garman_ necklaces in. The metal drum-like thing he'd traded for on Manaria. The wooden carved remembrance statue Solen gave him.

"_What did they do to you?" _

His _kamtra_. His bed-furs.

"_They broke you."_

He didn't stop until his room was in shambles and he could hardly breathe from exertion. Even then his whole body felt tingly with restless energy. He turned his back on all of it and made for the door at a run. He went left, avoiding all the transporters and any populated parts of the city, instead going down, running through the bowels of the city, some parts still soggy with seawater. Past residences, past labs, past windows and doors. He kept running, kept pushing. And the memories kept following.

"_Ronon, what's happening here?"_

Of the wraith ship. Of all the wraith ships. And wraith labs. All the times he'd chosen death over them. Chosen his friends over himself.

Except the one time that mattered.

"_Ronon!"_

His chest burned when he stopped at the edge of the West pier, his lungs greedily sucking in the salty air as it whipped against his face and hair. He self-consciously reached up and touched the rough scarring on his chest from the repeated wraith feedings and flinched as the action sent shooting pain across his chest up his shoulders and down his arms.

Resisting the urge to scratch them, he let his hands drop to his side and stared out at the ocean. Silently the wind washed over him. And he let the memories – and the dark thoughts that followed - take him.

"_After what they did to Sateda?!"_

TBC

**So, I think maybe that sword Shep gave him at the end of Broken Ties was Tyre's, but I wrote it as Ronon's for plot's sake. Hope you will forgive.**


	2. A Brother, A Friend

**A/N**:Wow, I was so excited to read everyone's reviews, I'm glad everyone is enjoying this!

**Disclaimer**: Still not mine. Still sad about that.

* * *

"Good morning Colonel."

Sheppard looked up at the young officer who'd just greeted him. It took him a moment to recall the name of the man who was currently filling his tray with scrambled eggs and re-hydrated sausage.

Unfortunately, he'd yet to have his morning coffee and his brain was a little slow on the uptake, "Good morning…lieutenant," he said slowly, hoping the man wouldn't notice that he didn't remember his name.

The man, probably a little younger than Ford had been when he joined the expedition, smiled amiably and then gave a sidelong look to his friend, who was pouring Orange Juice and looking like he had something to say. The first officer dropped his eyes at the look his friend sent him and returned to the eggs.

"Everything alright gentlemen?" John may have been a little groggy in the morning, but he could tell when his men had something on their minds.

"Well, we were just wondering, sir, if…you've seen Ronon lately?"

John smiled crookedly and nodded at the proffered Styrofoam cup of coffee held out to him. He knew his younger Marines had bonded with Ronon as their trainer, and seeing the evidence of that was certainly gratifying.

"He was released from the infirmary yesterday and I hear he's doing well."

The two Marines looked at each other and smiled, "Well that's good. We hadn't seen him at all so we were wondering. If you do happen to see him, sir, can you tell him we saved a couple hamburgers from yesterday in the freezer for him? Thompson finally got that grill he requested from earth so whenever he's hungry we're all set to introduce him to BBQ."

John's smile was only a little forced as he nodded and told the men he'd pass along the message. Ronon had been released from the infirmary a full 18 hours ago now, he should have visited the Mess at least once. It was always his first stop after any extended infirmary stay because the pre-approved list of foods Keller allowed down there didn't quite measure up to the Satedan's standards.

His smile must have devolved into a frown by the time he got to the table because both Teyla and Rodney were giving him strange looks.

"Is everything alright, John?" Teyla asked as Sheppard sat down across from her. She held Torren delicately in her arms as he sucked on a bottle. Rodney looked only a little uneasy from where he sat beside her as he sent nervous glances to the childs small, bald head.

"Yeah. I mean, I think so," he winced when he sipped his too hot coffee, "it's just that the guys on KD were just saying they haven't seen Ronon yet."

"He was released from the infirmary late yesterday," Rodney announced around a mouthful of pancakes, "he should have been here at least four times by now. The man eats like it's going out of style."

John raised his eyebrows and Teyla shook her head, smiling.

"Isn't there an earth expression that applies here? Something about a 'pot and a kettle'?" John smiled returning to his eggs and Rodney looked indignant. Slowly, Teyla's amusement faded, "Still, it is unusual. Perhaps one of us should go talk to him, I'm sure he's having difficulty reconciling with recent events."

John bit his lower lip and frowned into his coffee cup.

"Well, I mean, he's home now. He's back with us now so...he'll be okay, right?" Rodney asked, his own coffee cup halfway to his mouth. His gaze bounced between John and Teyla, genuinely hopeful that he was correct in that assumption.

"It's not always so easy Rodney," John answered without meeting his eyes. Teyla looked back down at Torren, her silence signifying her agreement.

"Oh. Well, maybe one of us should go talk to him then."

"Are you volunteering Rodney?" Teyla asked sweetly.

The scientist's face flushed slightly and he practically jumped back into his breakfast, "Oh, I um, have to go off-world today so, you know, I can't."

Teyla raised an eyebrow, "Off-world?"

"Yeah, actually Rodney and I are going to M7G-677 today. They're having some trouble with their shield generator and there's a wraith ship a little too close for comfort so Rodney's gonna fix it. Plus I promised to show Keras how to play football so…" he trailed off and shrugged, dropping his unfinished toast back onto the tray and folding his arms, leaning his elbows on the table, "but you could go talk 'feelings' to our big guy Teyla. Your very good at that," he added with a charming smile

"Gladly," Teyla responded, her glare making it very clear that Sheppard's charm would not work on her, "but Torren and I are leaving for New Athos later on this afternoon to see my sister."

"So take Ronon with you. I mean you know how stir-crazy he gets when he spends too much time on Atlantis and ten days in the infirmary can't have helped."

She nodded, the Colonel had a point there. The last time Ronon had spent this long on Atlantis without a break off-world, he'd nearly sent Lorne through the wall during a sparring match.

"Fine, I shall talk to Dr. Keller," she started to get up, "but I expect that you both are planning to see Ronon when you return?" ever the diplomat, the sentence sounded like the request it was not.

"Yeah, sure."

"Of course."

"Good," Teyla nodded and added in a low voice, so as not to be overheard, "he is our brother, and he is hurting. Our place is with him." Then she left, her words ringing in her teammate's ears.

SGASGASGASGA

Ronon on his bare mattress, silently staring at the large knife before him. It was one of his most prized possessions, the only one to be saved from his earlier outburst. The blade was sharp gray metal. The handle was perfectly balanced, decorated with carved wood and white bone inlays. It fit snug and comfortably into the palm of his hand. It had been his father's hunting knife.

He'd hardly slept the night before and he knew the exhaustion he felt showed on his face. But how could he sleep? Every time he closed his eyes he was met with nightmares of wraith and the torture he'd suffered at their hand. And death. So much death. His own. Tyre's. Sheppard's. Atlantis.

The death was enough to keep him awake for hours on end now, too afraid to go to sleep and not be able to wake up. Too afraid of the one thing he'd been hoping for since the moment he'd woken up in that abandoned little shed with Tyre on the planet.

He looked back down at the knife and cursed the dark thoughts coursing through him. He knew that the honorable thing, the Satedan thing to do, would have been to take his own life the moment he'd been free and well-enough to do so. It would have been equitable payment for the things he'd done, for turning his back on Atlantis, on every Satedan in the galaxy. Death by his own hand was the only way to restore his lost honor.

But he also knew that doing so would cheapen what his friends had done for him. Would make him ungrateful for their efforts to get him back. They'd put their own lives on the line for him and taking his now would be like spitting on that leap of faith. Killing himself now would be a death without even the honor he'd yet to earn back.

So there he was, staring at his father's knife, stuck in honor limbo. It felt like he was being ripped in two. He was not used to indecision, it was not in his nature to think before he acted and doing so now was surely driving him insane. Frustrated, tired and angry, he started to search his small room for something to throw or hit. He was disappointed to find everything was all already haphazerdly thrown into the corner.

Ronon's attention was drawn to the door when it chimed, indicating someone wanted to come in. Biting back a groan at the intrusion, he got up and waved his hand over the controls.

They opened to reveal Teyla. And she had her child. He raised his eyebrows.

"Hello Ronon," she smiled and tilted the baby in her arms so he could see his face, "may we come in?"

He hesitated and then shrugged, walking away from the door and allowing her to follow. If she noticed the disarray of his room, and how could she not, she didn't say anything.

He dropped down onto his bed and stared at the wall, turning the knife over in his hands. "What's up?" He asked, a lightness in his voice that did not match his mood.

"Well, I am going to New Athos this afternoon and I was wondering if you wanted to join me. Of course, if you'd rather stay and…tidy your room, I would understand." She smiled at her own joke, but Ronon either didn't get it or didn't find it funny.

"Not allowed off-world. Doctor's orders."

"Yes, I am aware," Teyla shifted Torren to her other arm, "however I have already spoken to Dr. Keller and she said that since, technically, New Athos isn't "off world" she would allow a short trip to the mainland." She watched for a change in the Satedan's manner, but found none, "I would only be staying overnight and Jinto would like to see you."

This made Ronon raise his eyebrows, and Teyla was glad for any reaction at all.

"Halling says he's been aggravating the people of the village with his erratic knife throwing. I believe he could use another lesson."

A smile almost flickered across the Satedan's face and Teyla felt a surge of joy run through her. A moment later a quiet nod signaled Ronon's agreement and she smiled.

"Meet me in the Jumper bay in an hour."

_TBC_

* * *

**A/N2**: I'm not totally sure if when they moved Atlantis to a new planet there was a mainland for the Athosians, but I'm writing it that way for this story.


	3. We Hugged, I'm Cured

**A/N:** So I was right, _The Deadalus Variations_ did not mention word 1 about our boy's traumatic experience. Harumph...although, I _very _much enjoyed that new jacket of his. That man makes leather look good.

**A/N2:** I had this whole scene on New Athos planned and wanted to keep this going for several more chaps, but it was drawing out and I couldn't maintain the angst at a believable, non-stale level. So, instead, I've reworked it and this is the last chap, which is pretty good at the end, if I do say so myself, so I hope you like!

**Disclaimer**: Not mine...yet.

* * *

The short trip from Atlantis to the Mainland, or New Athos, and back was usually reserved for Marines or Scientists who needed more experience flying the jumpers. Dr. Weaver, a young botanist fresh from the Deadalus, seemed to be a particularly skittish new pilot, and having the most intimidating man in two galaxies sitting not three feet away didn't help.

"You have actually flown one of these things before, right?" Ronon growled, the comment coming out more irritated than teasing. He was convinced they hadn't flown in a straight line since leaving New Athos and so far the trip had taken fifteen minutes longer than it should have.

Teyla looked over and bounced Torren in her arms when he started to fuss. Her teammate was hunched over in his seat, glaring out the view screen as usual, but there was something…unusual about him as well.

His shoulders and back were tense, like when he fought _bantos_ with her, and he looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks. She frowned, wondering if the trip to New Athos had had it's opposite intended effect on him, because he seemed even more edgy and irritable than before. She sighed, knowing she could not confront him about it here and made a mental note to talk to John about it later. Maybe he could even convince their friend to see Dr. Bradshaw, the new psychologist, but then she banished that thought immediately. John could often be persuasive, but there were some things, Teyla was convinced not even _he_ could do.

"Leave him be Ronon," she said, then turning a smile on the doctor, "you are doing fine Sam."

"Sam?" Ronon repeated, raising his eyebrows and narrowing his eyes at the scientist.

"Yes. Sam has been most helpful in recommending some herb remedies that may be useful in treating Torren's 'colic'."

Ronon frowned and then addressed the man again, "I thought you were a botanist."

"I am. My specialties are plants that can be used for medicine," He said a bit hesitantly, bolstering more as he clarified, "my doctorate is in plant biology but I minored in natural medicine while in college."

Ronon simply nodded. He wasn't sure of everything Weaver had said, but certainly 'doctorate' and 'college' he recognized from McKay. And if McKay had those same things, which seemed very important on Earth, it was probably all right that he was giving advice to Teyla. Sitting back, he tried to relax and 'leave him be' as Teyla said. So, closing his eyes, he pushed away thoughts of Wraith and Sateda and New Athos and Atlantis and tried instead just to sleep.

Surprisingly soon after that, the jumper went to Auto-Pilot and they were almost home.

SGASGASGA

"So, Mr. Dex, why have you come to see me?" Dr. Bradshaw smiled and doodled on his yellow legal pad. His brown slacks and dress shirt looked out of place to Ronon, on Atlantis everyone but he and Teyla wore uniforms. Even Mr. Woolsey. But the new psychologist thought he would look less imposing if he wore his own clothes. Ronon didn't get it.

The Satedan hunched over in the soft chair opposite the doctor, his hands clasped and elbows on his knees, "Sheppard said I had to come see you before he would allow me back on active duty with the team." He didn't think that was the reason his friend wanted him to come down there, at least not the whole reason, but if it got him out of talking about what had happened with Tyre, then he would do it.

"Ah, I see. Under orders then?"

Ronon didn't respond, the answer to that question was obvious.

Dr. Bradshaw cleared his throat and shifted slightly under Ronon's stare before smiling again, "Well, I shouldn't be surprised, people rarely come to see me of their own accord. So how are you feeling?"

Ronon shrugged minutely, "I'm fine."

Bradshaw didn't seem phased by the man's lack of response and continued smoothly, "You recently returned from a trip to visit the Athosians, did you enjoy that?"

Ronon shrugged again, "Not really."

Bradshaw raised his eyebrows, causing his thick rimmed glasses to slide down his nose, he scribbled on his pad, making Ronon grow a little bit tense, "Not really? From what I've heard the Athosians are a very hospitable people. Kind, generous. And, being that you are from this galaxy," he paused a small, overly sensitive smile growing on his lips, "I should think it would be something of a…family reunion for you. I'm surprised you didn't enjoy it."

Ronon looked away. Bradshaw was right, it was like a reunion for him. That was the problem, "Yeah, well, those haven't gone so good for me in the past."

Then, simply rising and turning away without another word, Ronon left. Sheppard hadn't really specified how long he was supposed to meet with Bradshaw anyway and he'd more than met the expectation. In fact, he'd probably exceeded them, since the pilot probably had more than likely expected him to spend the entire time staring blankly and unresponsive.

SGASGASGASGASGA

"You were _way_ out of line, Dex." John's breathing was slightly heavy and Ronon wondered if it was from anger or exhaustion from running all the way out here. Probably both.

Ronon stiffened at the sound of his voice, but didn't respond or turn around. Sheppard had come all the way out here, to an unpopulated part of the city, and it hadn't been to argue with Ronon over what he did and did not do on the planet they'd just returned from. If his CO had something to say Ronon sure as hell wasn't going to prevent him.

"Don't give me the silent treatment Ronon, I'm not impressed."

Or maybe it was an argument Sheppard wanted, "McKay was pinned and screaming like a wild _earin_."

"I know that."

"I would have gotten him home safe."

"I believe you."

"Then what's your problem, Sheppard? I saved McKay didn't I?" He finally turned around to face Sheppard who'd obviously just left the infirmary, probably against Dr's orders, since he still wore one of those plastic bracelets the nurses always put on them.

"Yes. You did. And I thank you for that. But in the meantime you disobeyed a direct order, put yourself in the line of fire, endangered yourself _and_ the entire team."

"You and Teyla could've gone through the gate." He growled, his posture growing defensive.

"Oh sure. And pot-bellied rimmie beasts will float." Sheppard scoffed, popping off an expression he'd heard on dozens of planets without even thinking.

Ronon was too angry to be surprised and just glowered at his CO. Sheppard pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"You want to know what my problem is? My problem is _him_. All I hear is 'I would have gotten _him_ home safe'. 'Nothing would have happened to _him_'." John stepped forward, and Ronon's posture deflated just a bit, "why weren't you going to make sure you _both_ got back safe?"

"I would have."

"Really? You sure? Because you're whole 'running into cross-fire' thing makes me think otherwise." John raised his eyebrows but Ronon didn't respond. He rubbed his eyes, "Did you go see Dr. Bradshaw like I asked?" he sounded almost resigned.

"You mean like you ordered?"

Sheppard's eyes flared, "Don't argue semantics with me. Did you?"

Ronon stood straight and tilted his head, "Yes. He cured me. We hugged and I feel much better now." Surprise flickered across Sheppard's face but Ronon made no apology for his bitterness.

"Okay, I guess I deserved that," John sighed after a moment, "sending you to the crew psychologist instead of just talking to you myself may not have been the best idea."

Ronon crossed his arms.

"Look, Ronon," He took a deep breath and Ronon ground his teeth, knowing what his next words would be, "I know how you must be feeling but, I mean, none of this was your fault, you weren't yourself-"

"Save it." Ronon snapped, turning back toward the railing and facing the vast ocean before him, "I've heard it all before Sheppard."

There was silence for a moment and then Ronon felt John move to stand beside him, looking out at the ocean. "I know what you're thinking."

Ronon didn't move, but Sheppard guessed he probably didn't believe him, so he kept talking.

"You're thinking that if you were truly Satedan, and worthy of the honor that you hold in such high regard, you would have chosen death over serving the wraith." Sheppard bit his lower lip and leaned against the railing, gripping it tightly, "First off I think you should realize something, I'm glad he got to you." In the corner of his eye he saw Ronon look at him, "because if he hadn't I would have gone to that wraith lab to rescue a corpse. I'm glad that wasn't how it happened, Ronon. I'm tired of burying my friends." His voice dropped low as he finished and his eyes never left the curling waves of the ocean.

He licked his lips and took a deep breath, leaving an opening for Ronon to interrupt. The Satedan remained silent.

"You remember that time I was captured by Kolya?"

"Todd."

"Yeah, that's when I met Todd." Sheppard nodded, looking down briefly at his boots and then back up at the ocean, "When we broke out the first thing he did was feed on one of the guards. But he was still hungry I guess, because when he got shot a little while later, he wasn't able to heal fully. I, as you know, wasn't quite myself so the next day when the guards started to approach our position, I couldn't do anything to fight. So Todd fed on me so he could heal and take out the surrounding guards." Sheppard took a deep breath.

"He took all that he could without killing me, left me so close to death I could taste it and smell it, but I…I just couldn't reach it. And I tried, because let me tell you, being on an enemy planet with no hope of rescue and a wraith as your only ally leaves you very little other option. Not to mention the fact that being that close to death hurts like hell," he added with a touch of mirth, "But no matter how far I reached, I just couldn't," he slowly reached out for the horizon, as if beckoning the Grim Reaper himself, "couldn't get it."

He squinted at his memory as it played out before him, "Then he came back and he put his hand on my chest and…I braced myself for the end, you know. I taunted him, wishing he would just finish me off so it could all be over. But then…he gave it all back. Every year of my life that he'd taken, he gave it back and it was…" he paused, as if searching for the words to describe the feeling, "it was like nothing I've ever felt. Like vertigo on an adrenaline rush and terror and relief all rolled into one. If I hadn't been so concerned with not letting you blow a hole in the guy I probably would have just sat there enjoying it." He smiled and shook his head at himself. Then, he turned slowly and the smile faded when he saw Ronon staring at him intently.

"Anyway, my point is…I don't blame you. I've been there. Being terrified of dying and wanting nothing more than death at the same time. I've known the agony of repeated wraith feedings. I've felt the rush of wraith enzyme skyrocketing through your system after your youth is restored and I don't think I could have held out as long as I know you did," he paused, searching Ronon's face for a sign of understanding and almost afraid to hope that he'd seen it.

"And I don't think the fact that you," he bit his lip, and then set it in a firm line. Ronon wasn't a child and he didn't want to be treated like one, "the fact that you _broke_… that doesn't make you any less Satedan. Or any less worthy of honor. I think, that if you'd been given the choice, you would have chosen death without hesitation. But the wraith didn't give you that choice. They didn't allow you even the most basic of human rights. The right to choose when we die. So you made the one and only choice you had. One you've made before and, I hope, you'll make again. To survive."

He finally looked up, connecting with Ronon's steady green eyes, "and _no one_ can blame you for that." He waited a moment, allowing his words to sink in and then, with a slight nod at Ronon's lack of response, which was really a response in and of itself, he turned to leave the balcony.

He was almost to the doorway when he heard his name.

"Sheppard."

He stopped and he heard Ronon's footsteps as he walked up beside him, both staring down the darkened hallway that led back to the heart of the city.

"It's pot-bellied _rhmna _beasts." He turned then and clapped his CO on the shoulder with a small smile, "but you were close."

Sheppard rolled his eyes and Ronon stepped ahead of him down the hall, "I don't even know what a rhmna beast is."

"Big."

John shook his head but smiled. He was back. It would take a while for the healing process to complete itself, but at least now, Sheppard knew, it was started.

He ran down the hallway to catch up to Ronon, "By the way, where' d you pick up sarcasm? 'He cured me' and 'we hugged' and all that?"

Ronon rolled his eyes, "You're kidding right? You have met yourself and McKay?"

Sheppard smiled and nodded, "Well you're going to have to stop spending so much time with us. Can't have my entire team get into the habit of being insubordinate."

Ronon's chest rumbled with laughter and it made John smile.

"Too late."


End file.
